’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. “You ask me to be engaged to you, Mr.
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